The Only One
by CrazyKindaGurl
Summary: Going through some old Salvatore heirlooms, Damon and Elena come across an old necklace, triggering a revealing flashback from Damon's more than colourful, and not positive, childhood, leading to a sweet moment between the two, uncovering secrets from Damon's past.


**A/n: another oneshot for you to (hopefully) enjoy! Bit different to what I've written before, but I wanted to touch on Damon's childhood. And yes, I was in tears writing this, so be warned. :P Reviews are welcomed.**

**The Only One.**

"Remind me again why we're going through all of this junk when we could easily be having so much more fun in bed?" Damon asked, with a facial expression that was almost a pout. Elena couldn't help but laugh, rolling her eyes.

"Because the quicker we clear it out, the quicker Stefan will have all of his rubbish together and will be able to move out. Then, we'll have the place to ourselves, forever. And besides, most of this isn't junk – it's interesting looking at all of your family's old heirlooms," Elena replied. "Take this, for example," she said, picking up an old picture of a human Damon in his army uniform, the first day he went away, "I get to see you in a uniform. That's worth a whole day going through all of this, in my eyes. You looked adorable."

Damon attempted to scowl, but it was obvious in his eyes that he knew she was right – and that he had softened at the mention of his old picture. "I didn't look 'adorable.' I'm Damon Salvatore – I'm not adorable. I'm meant to be a badass vampire, and I was still badass as a human, thank you very much."

"Someone's got a big ego," Elena teased.

"Yeah, and that's not the only thing," the vampire replied with a smirk.

Elena rolled her eyes. "No mention of that. If we go there, we'll never get this sorted. As much as I would love for you to throw me in your bed and never let me leave, it's not happening. Not yet. If you're a good boy, maybe you'll be rewarded later," she chastised, as though he was a child.

"Fine. But my reward had better be good," Damon replied mock indignantly, before turning back to his work. They were in the Salvatore Boarding House – in the attic, to be precise. Stefan, who had finally reached the end of his tether after yet another sleepless night thanks to the couple's antics, decided to move in with Caroline – and Klaus. It wasn't perfect, but it seemed the vampire would prefer to hear the Hybrid and the vampire fucking rather than his ex girlfriend and his Brother. He agreed to move out on one condition – they helped.

It had taken a long time to convince Damon to help. At first, he was incredulous – why should they have to do it? But Stefan was Stefan, and once Elena pointed out that it would get him out of their way quicker, he'd agreed. Besides, at least he could insure that his brother didn't take anything that rightfully belonged to him.

The pair worked in silence for a few moments, Damon putting aside anything that was Stefan's, and Elena doing the same –though really, she had no idea what half of it was. Old letters, with ink so faded it was impossible to see; old army badges, belonging mostly to the elder brother; and small pieces of assorted objects that seemed like rubbish to her, but had value to the brothers.

It was a few minutes into their bout of silence that Damon discovered something, and gasped. Elena looked up, frowning and looking confused. "What's wrong?" she asked.

Damon shook his head, looking shocked. "Nothing's wrong," he replied, his voice strained. It took Elena a few minutes to realise that it was because of emotion.

In his hands was a locket, looking old and worn, with an inscription on the back, which Elena couldn't read from the distance. His lips were parted, blue eyes distant, and she got the feeling that he was far away, lost in memories she couldn't see.

"Damon," she murmured, voice full of concern. "What is it?" Elena put a hand on his cheek, tilting him towards her, her worried gaze meeting his. It seemed to draw him out of his thoughts and he blinked, as though coming back to reality.

"It's...just, my Mother. This was my Mother's. I thought it was lost, and all this time, Stefan had it. I was supposed to. She told me I was supposed to have it. It was...important. It's symbolic, between the two of us. I wanted it for all these years, but I thought it had died with my Father. And he had it." Damon was physically shaking, half of emotion, and half of anger.

Elena frowned, her thumb brushing his cheek gently. "Well, maybe Stefan didn't know, or maybe he got it later-" she began, but was cut off.

"No, you don't understand," Damon interrupted. "It was symbolic between the two of us. She never wanted Stefan to have it, and certainly didn't want my Father to." He bit his lip, fang elongating and piercing the skin and drawing blood. "He couldn't."

Elena shook her head, looking at his tormented expression. How could she help him? Nothing seemed to comfort him, to pull him out of his memories. "Then tell me. Make me understand. Tell me why it was important," she nudge gently, moving to be next to him, wrapping both arms around him.

Damon moved once she had, so that her back was leaning against him, and she was almost entirely laid back in his arms. His hand entwined with hers, and feeling comforted by having her close, he began to talk.

_It was a gorgeous, sunny day in the mid 19__th__ century. Damon, just six years old, was sat in the garden on his own. This wasn't unusual for the boy – he spent most of his time alone. It was better than being under his Father's suffocating, critical gaze, constantly afraid of doing something wrong, or being in the presence of his 'perfect' younger brother. Even as a toddler, Stefan outshone his elder brother, and could do nothing wrong in the eyes of their Father._

_Today though, he wasn't as content to be alone as usual. This time, he was crying. He'd had to take refuge in the garden – his Father believed crying was a sign of weakness, and there was punishment if he did...except for Stefan, of course. _

_He had already been punished today, and that was why he was crying. Nobody knew the things Damon's Father did to him when they were alone – which was often. His Mother was popular with everybody, and spent the majority of her time in pretty dresses going to fancy parties. She wasn't there enough to notice anything wrong with her son. That particular day, it had been for not looking quite smart enough – he had literally been punished for having one hair out of place._

_Wiping his eyes almost angrily, Damon looked out across the spacious lawn. Six year old boys weren't supposed to spend their time like this, he knew. The others in the village were always playing, with friends and their siblings – they came from families where children were treated equally, unlike in the Salvatore house. He often wondered if there was something wrong with him – his Father certainly seemed to think so. Maybe it really was his fault. Maybe he really did need to be punished. He just didn't understand – was it his fault he just wasn't perfect enough to please anyone? Did he really deserve to-_

_The young boy's dark thoughts were cut off, when he heard footsteps approaching. Fiercely wiping his tears and anticipating it to be the Salvatores' nanny, Damon prepared himself to be chastised. But instead, it was the last person he'd expected – his Mother._

_She was in a long dress, her dark hair hanging in curls down to her waist, framing her pale complexion. She had his eyes – those sparkling, piercing orbs, Damon being the only other person in their family who was fortunate enough to inherit them. She looked beautiful, the boy thought , in awe of his Mother._

_She didn't look at all surprised to see Damon there, and if she noticed the tear stains on his face, she didn't mention it. Sitting down beside him, his Mother smiled, piercing eyes scanning his own._

_"Have I got to come to lunch, Mother?" Damon asked tentatively, rather confused as to why she was here. "If so, I shall have to change – Father won't accept me in anything but my best." The small boy's voice was quiet, and his expression portrayed his confusion. _

_To his surprise, his Mother simply laughed, fiddling with her locket around her neck. "Your Father never has accepted anything but the best. And sometimes, the best just isn't good enough."_

_Damon looked up, shocked that she would say anything against his Father. Maybe she wouldn't, if it wasn't for the fact that he was out of earshot. Unable to think of anything to say in response, he turned his attention to the necklace she was still fiddling with._

_"That's pretty. Is it new?" Damon asked._

_"Hmm?" his Mother replied, as though being torn away from his thoughts. "Oh, no. I've had this for a long time. It was my Mother's. She gave it to me, as I will give it to you."_

_Damon blinked, looking perplexed. "But...boys don't wear necklaces, do they?" he asked, sounding almost hesitant, as though he wasn't sure if what he was saying was right._

_Once more, his Mother laughed. "No. No, they don't. But it's for you to hold onto – and give to someone one day, too."_

_"To my child?" Damon asked_

_"Perhaps," came the reply. "My Mother told me this is a very special necklace. You keep it, sometimes for all your life – keep it until you find someone else who you would give your everything to, do anything for. Give up everything, just for them. Who you trust more than anything."_

_"You mean...somebody you love?" Damon asked, watching as his Mother nodded. He paused, holding back his questions, until curiosity got the better of him. "Then why...why haven't you given it to Father?"_

_Surprising him once again, his Mother didn't chastise him for asking questions as his Father would have, nor deny it to the ground. She simply sighed. "I had. But I took it back," she replied. "Not that he noticed," the woman added bitterly._

_"But...why?" Damon asked, confused._

_"Because I don't want to give my all to someone who doesn't do the same, nor deserve it," his Mother replied simply. "Nobody who deserves that could hurt a child the way he does."_

_At that, Damon's eyes widened._

_"Yes, I know about that. It wasn't hard to guess. I'm going to get us out of here, soon. Out of here, or out of the situation. I'll save you somehow. You just wait," the woman promised. She unclipped the necklace, putting it into his hands. Examining it, Damon traced the inscription on the back with his fingers. It read; Fino alla morte, e forse anche dopo._

_"What does it mean?" Damon asked, not being familiar with his family's native language._

_"Until death, and perhaps even after," his Mother replied. "You should keep it," she added, smiling at his astounded expression. "You're the only one I'd do anything for, now. You should take it."_

_Damon's face was touched – he'd never been told he was loved before, or even cared about. But, even as a child, he was intuitive. "No. You keep it. Right now, you need to give your all to yourself to sort this out," he replied, pressing it back into her hand. _

_Her expression changed, and for a moment Damon was sure he'd seen tears in her eyes. "I'm going to go," she said, changing the subject."Your Father is sure to come looking for me soon, and he won't like it if I'm found talking to you." The boy nodded, the rare, tender moment having ended between them._

_But then, just as she was about to leave, she touched his cheek gently – much as someone else who truly loved him would, over a century later. "Damon...I really meant what I said. I will get us out of here. I promise."Before he could even react, she was gone, leaving him with nothing but his own thoughts, and for the first time, hope._

"She died a week later," Damon said, back in present time, when he finished accounting his story, "and I had no way to escape. I never got the necklace, either – but even when I asked my Father about it, he said he knew nothing of it. I know now that he must have given it to Stefan – probably later on, when he was older. It was meant to be _mine_. And all this time, I thought it had disappeared. When really, it was up here, and _he _had it."

Elena, who had been lying against him, glanced up at him, her eyes filled with tears from his story. "It's yours now," she whispered, pressing her lips to his cheek.

"No," Damon replied, "No, it isn't." When she looked confused and a little startled, he gave a small laugh. "It isn't mine, because it's yours," he explained.

As soon as she realized what he was saying, Elena shook her head, and opened her mouth to argue. He soon cut her off, though.

"Don't. It's yours, now. Remember what my Mother said? Someone you'd give your all to, who you'd do anything for, and trusted above anything else. You're the only ever woman who's made me as safe as she did in that small moment, and I feel like that all the time with you. Not even Katherine made me feel that way. And the inscription; 'until death.' We're immortal. We'll never die – just like my love for you never will," Damon interupted firmly.

Elena's eyes filled with fresh tears now, as she accepted the necklace into her hand. Gently, he helped her put it on, brushing her hair out of the way. She moved and put his lips to hers, and they kissed softly. "I love you. I'll always love you," she promised.

Smiling, Damon simply replied, "I know. And I love you, too. More than anything." For a moment, they simply pressed their foreheads against each other, and remained that way, content in their love for the other.

Then, a sound interupted them, and Damon pulled away, an almost demonic look on his face. "Stefan," he spat, making to go downstairs, where it sounded like Stefan had just arrived. Elena however, put a hand on her arm. "Don't," she warned.

"Why not? Are you protecting him?" Damon asked, sounding more than puzzled.

Elena however, simply grinned. "No. But instead of going down there and beating him to a pulp, or starting an argument, get revenge in the best way possible." When he still look confused, she chuckled. "He's moving out soon. Let's say we give him something to moan about one last time?"

Finally realizing what she meant, Damon grinned. "I think that sounds like a perfect idea," he replied, before pulling her onto the floor, lips crashing onto hers, and neither could think anymore.


End file.
